The Stealers Page 7

  *

  Ryan thumbed in Bradley’s number and held the mobile to his ear. The response came through immediately, ‘Where are you?’

  ‘On the A130 to Yarmouth. I picked up that woman, Penny. I’m taking a roundabout route just in case that bastard Crane tries to follow.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘I don’t know how, but they found the barn. I’d just finished tidying up when I saw her trying to open the car door, so I made her get in.’

  ‘Is Crane following you?’

  Ryan glanced in the mirror and replied cockily, ‘No. I left him lying in the mud. He’ll find no sign of me by the time he gets back on the road.’

  ‘Well you’d better get rid of the woman. Drop her off somewhere, anywhere. I only want the boy so you can tell the kid that I’m taking him to his mother. Give me a call when you’ve dumped her, okay?’

  Ryan grunted, ‘Yeah,’ and put the mobile back in his pocket. Some miles further down the road Ryan spotted a lay-by sign and decided to offload Penny. Heavy rain had started to fleck the side mirrors of the Mondeo and the rear window had begun to mist up. If he had been able to check his rear-view mirrors, Ryan may have noticed that, in the distance, some way behind, a dirty white Mercedes saloon was gradually moving closer.

  The Mondeo slewed into the lay-by and with a snarl Ryan turned in his seat and said, ‘You can get out here and stretch your legs.’ Nodding towards the direction of a toilet he said, ‘You may want to use that.’ And as though to justify his actions added, ‘We’re in for a bit of a long run.’

  Penny tried the door lock, but it wouldn’t open. Ryan grinned and to emphasise his control, stared at her and slowly pressed the release button. Penny guessed what was happening, but an idea came into her head and voicing out loud, echoed, ‘There’s a toilet? I could use that. That’s very thoughtful of you.’

  Ryan grinned once more; his plan was working, until Andrew suddenly became fidgety and started to undo his seatbelt. ‘Toilet, I need to go too, Auntie Penny.’

  Penny laughed inwardly, it was what she expected.

  ‘It’s all right, I’ll take you.’ Ryan breezed. ‘You don’t want to go to the ladies’ loo now, do you?’

  But it was too late. ‘Want to go to toilet with Auntie Penny,’ he called back as he scampered out through the open rear door. She held his hand tight as they both raced across the wind- and rain-lashed tarmac. Ryan leapt out and tried to catch the pair up as they headed towards the ladies’ toilets, but he was too late.

  As he was pacing around outside the toilet block, he noticed a dirty white Mercedes pull into the parking area. It stopped briefly for a second and then moved slowly towards him. Ryan cupped a hand over his eyes; squinting through the splattering rain. The wipers on the Mercedes were racing furiously across its windscreen, but there was no mistaking its driver. It was the mud-stained face of Crane. The Mercedes followed Ryan’s movements and inched menacingly towards him. Fear showed in Ryan’s face. He began to back away, then suddenly, he swerved his body to one side and broke into a sprint across the car park, leapt into his Mondeo, slammed it into gear and sped off.

  Penny was standing on the toilet seat looking through an open window; she had witnessed the whole episode. Andrew, now with the chocolate stains removed from his face, stood nonchalantly beside her in the cubicle, still fascinated with the latest electronic pad that he held, firmly between his hands. As soon as Ryan drove off, Penny hurried out of the toilet and with both arms held high, began waving and running towards Crane. Her chest felt heavy with tension, but at last she felt as though she could breathe again.

  ‘Am I glad… to see you!’ she gasped.

  Crane got out of his car and smiled broadly, accentuating a row of white teeth against a semi-camouflaged muddied face. His clothes were caked with dry mud. Penny stared for a second, laughed and with a huge sigh said, ‘Look at you, covered in mud,’ and placing her arms around his waist, gave him a hug. It was a reflex action. Andrew barely glanced up as he trailed slowly behind – eyes still focused on the small screen, fingering his games machine. It was the first time, in the short while he had known her, that Crane had seen Penny laugh or even smile. It suited her and Crane, despite feeling ominous about the whole situation, hoped that the final outcome would be a happy one. He then headed for the gents’ and removed some of the dirt from his mud-encrusted face, while Penny phoned her brother Trevor, to bring him up to date with what had happened since he had left for work early that morning. She gave him Crane’s address and suggested that he call there after he had finished work to discuss their next step.

  *

  Ryan sped along the A130, wanting to put distance between himself and his adversary. His eyes were constantly fleeting towards the rear-view mirror. He steered the Mondeo carelessly with one hand whilst dialling Bradley’s number with the other – stabbing at the buttons with his fleshy thumb. The ringing tone resounded in his ear for some time until eventually Bradley answered and Ryan blurted out, ‘Crane’s got the boy and that Penny woman.’

  Bradley was clearly irritated, ‘What! Where are they now?’ he growled.

  ‘I left them at a lay-by a few miles back.’ And as if to defend his actions added, ‘He took me by surprise as I dropped off the woman. Came at me in his car and tried to run me over.’ As he was speaking, Ryan’s shifty eyes, darted around the rear-view mirrors, and he added with confidence, ‘I took off like a bat out of hell. Drove like the devil was after me and took a few side roads. He’s not in sight. There’s no way he can catch up with me now.’

  Bradley was quiet for a moment, until eventually he sighed, ‘Okay. Let me think on this one and I’ll get back to you. By the way, on a more pleasant note, all our stock has been placed in containers and will be leaving the docks tonight.’

  Ryan mumbled a, ‘Thank fuck for that,’ and hung up.

  Bradley dialled Harry the Hammer’s number. A gruff voice answered.

  ‘Harry,’ Bradley said cheerfully, ‘have you met our Mr Jack Crane yet?’

  Harry did not want to go into details with his embarrassing encounter and responded with, ‘Briefly, so what?’

  ‘He is a bit of a thorn in our side, Harry. Would you care to see to it? Sort of dissuade him, you know.’

  Harry was a man of few words. This bolt from the blue – the very idea – excited him. He would be delighted to have another go at Crane, only this time it would be on his terms; he wouldn’t make any mistakes and grunted, ‘Where’s he live?’

  Bradley gave him Crane’s address and added, ‘He should be home within the hour. You may want to take someone to help.’

  A plan to waylay Crane was already forming in the monosyllabic Harry’s devious head and he grunted confidently, ‘Who me? No worries; leave it to me.’

  Bradley informed Ryan and they both laughingly agreed that the ‘criminally insane’ Harry the Hammer, would take good care of things for them.

  Chapter Nine

  Crane had no intention of chasing after Ryan, especially with Penny and young Andrew onboard, so he decided to head for home. After a while, the light filtering through the car was gradually blotted out by a dark overcast sky. It was early September and the days were getting shorter. The gloomy clouds remained static, hovering above until eventually they completely blackened the sky, swallowing up the horizon. Suddenly, the windscreen was swamped by heavy rain and Crane’s foot gently touched the brake. The car slowed down and, with headlamps blazing, it battled against the torrential downpour.

  ‘I’m hungry,’ he announced, ‘fancy stopping for a bite to eat? There’s a drive-in not too far from here.’

  ‘Sounds fine,’ Penny replied, ‘all this excitement has made me feel peckish.’ She turned her head and threw a glance at the back seat. Andrew – safely strapped in – was fast asleep with the games machine clutched against his chest. She turned back and said in a hushed voice, ‘I really don’t know why they want the boy. That is the second time they’ve tried to snatch him
. Ryan told me his mother wants to see him, but he would not give any further information. It’s obvious that they are not going to use me any more. I just don’t understand why that crook is still holding on to my sister.’

  ‘Maybe Bradley wants to wait until he has disposed of all the vehicles before he lets her go,’ Crane mused, ‘perhaps letting her go too early would be risky. Once he has covered his tracks it wouldn’t matter who she tells everything to.’

  ‘Mmm… ’ Penny sighed, and sat quiet for a moment pondering, until Crane interrupted her thoughts with a half-hearted, ‘I’m afraid this will have to do,’ as he turned the Mercedes off the main road and into a drive-through eatery. Penny shared Crane’s lack of enthusiasm, but her peckish feeling had turned to hunger and; a “when needs must” attitude took over.

  *

  Trevor dodged and weaved his way through the crowded Liverpool Street Station in time to board the packed 6.15 pm Southend-bound train. It was dusk when fifty minutes later, he leapt off at Hockley Station and walking at a brisk pace, collected his car from the station car park. Penny’s phone call recounting her traumatic day’s events had been playing on his mind, and he had decided to leave work early. The drive to Canford would take no more than fifteen minutes.

  The clouds had darkened and it was raining hard as he pulled into Palmers Rise. He cursed angrily as the car’s bright halogen headlamps illuminated the shape of a large waste bin, seemingly abandoned in the middle of the narrow lane. It meant leaving the dry comfort of the car and getting wet. He yanked the handbrake on, leapt out of the car and walked quickly towards the obstruction. As he positioned his hands on the sides of the bin, the lid raised itself high in the air, and like a jack-in-the-box, Harry the Hammer rose up. His maniacal eye-bulging stare was enough to make anyone jump out of their skins and Trevor was no exception. Before he could recover his wits, a ball-peen hammer smashed cruelly against his temple and he slumped to the ground.

  Harry leapt out of the huge bin and with a great deal of satisfaction quickly strutted around the still form of the rain-soaked body. He then, in a mad rage, ran to Trevor’s car and struck the panels several times with his hammer. Despite the heavy rain, Harry felt compelled to take a closer look at the still form lying on the ground. He wanted him to move so that he could strike him again. Trevor’s head lay to one side and using his foot, Harry nudged it face up. Fumbling in his pocket, he produced a small torch, and bending down slightly, he sent a beam of light directly onto his unfortunate victim’s head. He focused it onto a solitary mark in the centre of Trevor’s forehead where a trail of blood, slowly oozing from the wound, was being washed away down the turned neck to mingle with the muddy surface of the lane.

  Harry straightened up, and the beam widened, moving across Trevor’s turned face. Harry suddenly became transfixed. He knew he could never forget Crane’s features after all, he had the experience of staring up into his face for some period of time. He remembered feeling Crane’s hot angry breath and the full weight of his knee – Harry’s poor neck still ached from their last encounter. Realisation came to him slowly. The face he was looking at was not the face he remembered. Wide-open eyes – dead-looking eyes – were staring back accusingly at Harry. They sent shivers down his spine. It was the wrong man – and he was dead.

  Harry had never killed anyone before; he had maimed a number people – smashing their limbs with his hammer; but not killed. Panic began to set in and he ran; slipping and sliding through puddles, almost falling over, as he made his way to the place where he had partially hidden his old Escort van. After falling into the driver’s seat, sweat began to mingle with the rain dripping from his sodden hair. It began to sting his eyes and rubbing them seemed only to make things worse. To try and gain some relief, he blinked hard several times whilst turning the ignition key. Screwing his eyes up tightly, he gradually squinted through the rain-lashed windscreen and then crashed through the gears jerking the van violently forward.

  There was no room to spare as he tried to coax the van past Trevor’s car. The car still had its engine purring steadily and its headlamps brightly illuminated the twisted prone figure on the rain-sodden ground. He made several attempts of metal scraping and grating against metal on one side, together with the chafing of woody brush on the other side, before he finally made it through to the main road and sped off in the direction of Rochford.

  *

  Crane drove out of the fast-food car park and eased the Merc along at a steady pace as he headed back home to Palmers Rise. Penny felt on edge and said, ‘Do you think they’ll try to take Andrew again?’

  ‘They’ve tried twice now without success, I think they may leave things as they are for a while, but if they are that determined, they’ll try again when you least expect it.’

  Penny stared vacantly through the windscreen as she spoke, ‘I have an apartment which I was forced to leave while living in that house. For some reason I always had to be on tap, so to speak. Now I’m worried about going back to my own place.’

  ‘You can stay at my cottage if you like,’ Crane offered.

  ‘That’s very kind of you,’ Penny sighed, ‘but it’s even more remote. I know it’s cowardly, but I’d be scared stiff of being left on my own, and you can’t leave a boy like Andrew locked up inside all of the time.’

  Crane thought for a moment and said, ‘Maybe it’s time to get the police involved. Tell them the whole story. I’m sure they will find a safe place for you both until it all blows over.’

  ‘If it had not been for my sister, Jean, I would have done so from the start, but I suppose these attempts to take Andrew change things.’ Penny turned to look at the boy – he was still asleep. ‘If I told the police everything, I would probably get arrested for aiding and abetting. I’ll talk to Trevor about it this evening. I phoned him whilst you were getting the mud off your face and brought him up to date. He’s leaving work early and instead of going home to his apartment, he’s coming straight over to your place this evening.’

  *

  Bradley met up with Ryan to discuss their next move. They were seated in a Little Chef on the A12 near Ipswich. ‘Things were better until that Crane came onto the scene,’ Ryan mused. ‘Maybe we should have let him keep his car.’

  ‘What? And throw away the best part of forty-odd grand? His car is a ‘Shelby’ Mustang in pristine condition – rare as rocking horse shit – and it’s worth that kind of money anywhere.’

  ‘Yeah I suppose you’re right. Let’s hope Harry sorts things out.’

  Their conversation was interrupted by a noisy ringtone. Bradley plucked a mobile from his jacket pocket and eyed the tiny screen. ‘Talk of the devil,’ he said, ‘it’s Harry the Hammer. Don’t tell me he’s done the job already.’ Bradley put the phone to his ear and said, ‘Yes,’ whilst Ryan looked on in anticipation.

  ‘I’ve done the wrong bloke.’

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘I dunno, I think maybe I’ve seen him at the house, it could be… ’

  Bradley cut him short; ‘Trevor, the brother,’ he stated flatly.

  ‘Yeah, that’s it.’

  Bradley remained calm and said, ‘How bad is he?’

  It was quiet for a moment and Bradley thought he had been cut off until he heard Harry’s low voice mumble, ‘He’s erm… dead.’

  Bradley remained calm and said, ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Oh yes. I’m sure. I need to get away.’

  ‘Of course you do. You had better pack your things and find somewhere to go until things settle down; oh and erm, don’t call me for a while, I’ll get in touch sometime next week.’

  Bradley looked at Ryan and simply said, ‘The silly fucker has topped the wrong man; he’s done in Trevor! Still there’s nothing to connect us.’

  Ryan shrugged and they both carried on eating their meal.

  *

  Crane swung the Mercedes into Palmers Rise and immediately stopped. The blue iridescent lights of an ambulance and a police car refle
cted through his windscreen; eerily illuminating the pair of wide-eyed faces staring at the scene. Crane leapt out of the car and hurried towards the carnage. After checking that Andrew was still asleep, Penny followed Crane.

  The rain had eased off slightly and, upon seeing Crane approach, PC Travers motioned him towards the back of the ambulance and said sombrely, ‘Evening, Mr Crane. I don’t suppose you know anything about this.’

  It was a statement rather than a question. Crane had known the local bobby for a few years. Crane shook his head. Travers continued in his serious, concerned tone, ‘About fifteen minutes ago, I was just passing by and noticed a stationary car in the middle of the lane with its headlamps blazing and driver’s door wide open. I drove up behind and saw the body lying in front of the car. It’s murder all right. Single blow to the head – killed outright; I thought it might have been you at first. Do you know him?’

  Crane climbed into the ambulance with PC Travers. He looked down at the lifeless form of Trevor and in a hushed voice said, ‘Yes.’

  Then as Penny got out of the Merc, he nodded towards her and said, ‘That’s his sister.’ Travers glanced towards Penny as she approached and said to Crane, ‘Have you any idea what may have happened?’

  ‘No. We arranged, rather his sister, Penny, arranged to meet him at my cottage this evening.’ As an afterthought he added, ‘If only we had got here sooner… ’ His voice trailed off as Penny climbed up the step at the rear of the ambulance.

  A look of horror spread across Penny’s face when she recognised the lifeless form of her brother lying on the ambulance stretcher in the back of the ambulance. Without saying anything, her head turned, looking from Crane to Travers the policeman, searching for some kind of explanation. Crane stepped up to put an arm around her shoulders and her eyes began to fill with tears until suddenly they began to flow uncontrollably.

  Travers broke the silence with, ‘I’m so sorry, miss. We don’t know exactly what has happened here, but we’ll find whoever’s responsible.’